The last breath of awe-inspiring energy in Pangu's chest has been floating for tens of thousands of years. At the moment when the Nine-Nine God of Nirvana struck, I rubbed my newly grown fingers and stood in the crack of the calamity cloud. Da Luo was at his peak, and the Law of Power was gnawed down to 8%, and the Haoran Sutra was figured out by himself. At the beginning of the Longhan Tribulation, the world was still full of blood, and the sound of phoenixes in the distance was rolling towards the Buzhou ridge. I squatted on the top of the mountain and scratched the back of my neck - someone on the mountainside was looking up at me.
